Formal Introductions
by QuietBlondeOne
Summary: Maria Thorpe is imprisoned a few hours after her escape from the Assassin from Jerusalem. How will she react though when a familiar figure visits her in the middle of the night? One-shot. Rated T for language and some other stuff.


**Authors Note: This is a little one-shot that I came up with tonight! Hope you enjoy! Set during Assassin's Creed 1. How do you think they knew each other's names when they met again before Cyprus? Hmm? …You'll see lol XD**

**Formal Introductions:**

Maria trudged through the crowded market of Jerusalem, trying to dart an escape to Acre after being defeated and for that matter, humiliated, by the damned Assassin.

"_Not nine. Eight." He had whispered. _

"_What do you mean?" She asked, confused. Surely her neck should have been slit by now._

_She thought she could make out a scoff in his voice as he released her. "You are not my target. I will not take your life. You're free to go, but do not follow me."_

_She sneered as she turned on her heel to depart. "I do not need to, you're already too late."_

"_We'll see…" He addressed as he watched her sprint away._

"Damned fool…" She hissed as she slid passed the people of the dirtied streets. "I was meant to die today. I should have died today! Robert entrusted me to give my life to spare his, and I failed! What's to become of me now? Where will I end up?" These questions flooded her mind as she tried to keep focus on getting away from the city. Surely the guard would be hot on her tail by now, after the parade of onlookers discovered her true identity. A woman in a captain's gear; this would certainly scar a mark on her position in Jerusalem.

She heard shouts coming from behind her, and looked back for a split second to realize that a group of Saracen men with swords drawn were pushing people over to catch up to her.

_Damn, of course they would send the barbarians to capture me. _Her conscience muttered.

She made her way around a group of buildings near the poor district, and realized that the exit of the city was just behind the walls to the east. As she rounded a set of food stalls, a foot came out of nowhere behind a building and sent her feet flying to the floor, with her chest and arms falling flat against the rough ground. A chuckle came from above her, and she groaned as she realized she had been found out.

"Maria Thorpe… so glad to see you again my dear," The voice said in an intimidating tone. She already recognized it and didn't even have to look up to identify who it was.

"Armand Bouchart. What a surprise to have you in such an unfortunate place!" Maria mocked as she looked up at him. The group of Saracens had surrounded her on all sides, weapons pointing towards her in case she tried anything funny.

Armand grunted in disgust and shoved a boot against her forehead, forcing her neck to arch and look at him directly. He snapped his fingers and a guard behind him walked over to the woman and bound her hands together.

"You know I don't favor you, _woman._" Armand muttered as he brought his foot back from her face and instead grabbed the helm of her tunic and brought her to her feet. "I heard of your little…mishap today with the Assassin. I do hope you realize that because of you, Robert now has the killer hot on his trail. If we fail today, I will put the blame personally on your head for what we have lost."

Maria made a tsking noise with her tongue and smirked at the man. "Oh really, Armand? I would've thought you would thank me considering if Robert perished, you would take his place."

Armand snarled and threw her to the floor once more. "Take her to the underground keep," he ordered a group of men, "I shall decide what to do with her depending on the future status of De Sable."

The men swiftly obeyed and two bent over to grab Maria by her arms.

"I can get up myself, you dolts." She spat. After she attempted to dust herself off with bound hands, she silently commenced to walking with the group of soldiers to her destination.

When they arrived at the keep, it was almost dark. The prison was positioned at the complete opposite side of the city from where she had been captured, and by the time she was led into the chambers, her feet felt as if they could slide off her ankles and disintegrate. They guided her to a tiny cell with a large barred hole in the ceiling looking up into the streets of the city. After checking to make sure she had no means of escape or weapons, they locked her door and left her in the blackness of the cold cell, minus the soft glow of the moon cascading overhead.

_A room fit for a queen._ She thought as she released a deep and solemn sigh.

How had all of this happened? Just a few weeks ago, she was on top of the world as the first woman to ever hold a high rank in the army, and a high rank in the world of pig-headed men in general. Now she was nothing more than a stain on a shirt, impossible to get rid of, yet a reminder of what could've been. She groaned as she slid down the side of the cell wall onto her bottom. Her hands were still tied, and there was no bed in the cage, so she just settled with sleeping sitting up for the time being, until someone, perhaps Robert if she was lucky, could convince the guards to let her go.

It was around midnight when she heard a rattling coming from above her cell, and in a flurry of sleepiness and alertness, her eyes flew open and began to dart around the cold room, trying to locate the source of the sound.

Looking up, she discovered that source quickly. A shadowy figure was sliding through the bars of the roof, and began descending down to her cell by climbing along the stone wall. Before she had the chance to scream, the figure had landed onto the floor with a thud and quickly knelt down to her level to cover her mouth with its hand. She began shaking her head furiously, grunting and muttering unintelligible banter.

The figure only lifted its other hand's finger to its mouth, making a shushing noise with its lips.

"If you stop struggling and promise not to scream, I won't have to cut your throat." The voice had a mild Arabian accent to it, and was definitely male. It didn't take Maria long to figure out who it was.

"MREEW!" she gasped beneath his gloved hand. His other arm released his blade, making a distinct _shink_ as it protruded. He held it up to her throat.

"I said to keep quiet." he muttered darkly. Immediately she obeyed. "I will release my hand now, but you must stay quiet. I will not hesitate to kill you." He lifted his hand from her lips, and she coughed from the scent of leather covering her nose and mouth.

"Why are you here?" she demanded hoarsely.

"Answers," he stated simply.

"Of what?" she said with a brow cocked, "I already revealed where Robert had gone, what more do you need than that?"

He chuckled sinisterly. "My dear, killing one leader of a faction does not mean that the faction will immediately cease to exist. There are others, and they rise when the previous have fallen. Even someone as meek-minded as you should know this."

She growled in fury. "Insolent bastard. If you wish to know who's next in line, why don't you go ask the men who arrested me? They seem to have a keen idea."

He flashed a smirk at her. "But now, that would be too simple, wouldn't it…what is your name?"

She sneered and turned her head. "Like you would need to know."

He snickered and gave a sigh. "Perhaps I might, for future purposes, who knows?"

"Maria." She stated flatly.

"Maria…" He repeated. The way her name rolled on his tongue sent a shiver up her spine. "A very special name indeed, one of the Christian faith, no?"

"I don't know, maybe my parents just liked the way it sounded."

"Names aren't just something to be thrown around."

"Obviously you've never been to England."

He gave a small laugh at her comment and stood up to walk to where the moonlight landed on the stone floor. Slowly he lowered his hood and looked directly at her. She almost lost her breath at the sight of him, he wasn't much older than a teenager, and his eyes were gleaming in their honey-toned glory. His soft brown hair fell in wisps around his head, and a small amount of stubble surrounded his jaw. He was nothing alike to what she had expected him to be. No, he looked just like an ordinary being, but with the heart of a murderer. She barely noticed her heart beginning to hammer against her chest.

"Altair. That is my name, Maria." He whispered.

"Al..tare?" She tried to pronounce with no luck.

"Al-ty-eer," He strained.

She giggled, and he relaxed at the soft sound. He made his way back over to her and knelt down once more to her level, his face examining hers closely.

"Tell me, Maria. Why did you go through all that trouble to make sure Robert got away today?"

She shuffled her feet nervously and exhaled deeply. "Robert is my commander, I, his steward. I was to serve him till death and did so because he offered me a place no other man would. He gave me respect, and saw me past my gender. And that is why I was willing to die today for him."

He smiled at her, a genuine smile that she suspected someone like him could not forge. "I admire you, Maria. You haven't left my mind since I took off your helmet earlier. I commend you for standing up to me, even almost defeating me. I wish more thought like you."

Her cheeks burned a deep red. She was about to respond when she heard footsteps coming from outside the cell.

Turning to warn the man who had interloped her imprisonment, she felt a hand slide underneath her chin and the other softly touch her flushed cheek. Her eyes nervously fluttered and her lips parted when she heard him whisper in her ear:

"Are you frightened, _Maria?_ Your heart is beating so fast."

She tried to respond, think of anything to get him to back away and leave, but no words of hatred came to her mind. Only the shouts of a guard outside brought her back to her senses.

"The guards…they know you're-"

She didn't even have time to finish her sentence. His soft and scarred lips had gently taken hers by surprise, molding perfectly together under the soft moonlight. She tried to breathe, but her lungs denied her otherwise. This was wrong. He was the enemy. This was all his fault. Yet, she couldn't reject the delicate touch as their mouths dominated one another, and soon her tongue joined in, dancing with his in a gentle, yet sincere movement.

Before she knew it, it was over. And as he pulled away softly, she began to whimper, her head falling into the crook of his neck. She stored his scent into her memory as she inhaled, a mix of spices and earth.

The guards were now approaching her cell, and were only but a mere ten feet away. He kissed her forehead and gazed at her with heartfelt eyes, as if he was trying to imprint her face into his mind.

"I must go. You will be safe. My forces have made sure of it."

She was about to protest, but he had already pulled away from her presence and began to make his way back up to the roof. She stared after him, her neck painfully stretched up to watch him as he slid back through the bars and slipped away into the night.

As he left, a guard opened her cell and walked over to her. Grabbing her by her clasped hands, he pulled out a dagger and sliced the rope which held them together.

"You're free to go Miss Thorpe. Someone anonymous has paid the bounty for you, but I would suggest heading to Acre as soon as you can. This city does not favor your presence."

Her brow tilted into a frown as she looked back to the open roof. She gave a happy sigh and smiled up to the moon.

"Once again you spare my neck. Fool." She muttered.

The guard led her out into the night to the exit of the city, where a horse and supplies were already there waiting for her departure to Acre. She quickly took the reins and hoisted herself into the saddle, and, without looking back, spurred the horse into a fast gallop, and made her way up to the dusty road ahead.


End file.
